1
A faint smell of rusted metal lingered in the air. Jung Heeyeon remained seated with his knees drawn close to his chest, resting his face against the wall—or rather, the semblance of one. It wasn’t accurate to call it a wall, as stray strands of his hair poked through the mesh of loosely entwined steel. The crude, sparse bars of the cage could hardly be described as a proper wall.
Inside the suspended hutch, the omega clutched his knees tightly, his vacant gaze directed at his feet. The cold exposure had turned his bare skin a flushed red, like his cheeks. He moved slightly, tucking his left hand into his right sleeve and his right hand into his left sleeve. Though the biting cold persisted, covering his skin provided a small comfort compared to leaving it exposed.
Sniffling slightly, Jung Heeyeon wiggled his toes. The exposed tops of his feet stung from the sharp cold wind, and his skin began to feel tender, with a faint sense of pain setting in over time. Being barefoot on the cold metal bars of the cage amplified the discomfort.
“So cold…”
He curled into himself even further but made no attempts to fight or struggle against his confinement. The cage door opposite him was secured with an ostentatiously large padlock. If he wanted to get out, he would have to wait until someone came to unlock it.
The omega, accustomed to punishment, no longer cried. He simply waited. He waited for someone to come and release the lock.
The first time Jung Heeyeon was placed in a suspended hutch was when he was twelve years old. Did he cry back then? He couldn’t remember. The instability caused by the iron bars made it hard to endure without hugging himself. His already slender figure appeared even smaller as a result.
The cage he was confined in was exactly as its name suggested—a hutch suspended in mid-air. Since its bottom didn’t touch the ground, it swayed slightly whenever the wind blew. Though it wasn’t far from the ground, the lack of stability created a psychological unease.
A solid wall might have provided a sense of security, but the cage, with its gaping holes even in the floor, offered none. It was an excruciatingly uncomfortable space where one could neither sit nor lean properly.
Jung Heeyeon began to count time slowly. Since it was only early autumn, he suspected he might be kept inside here longer today. During the peak of winter or summer, the time he spent in confinement was usually shorter, but in spring or fall, the hours dragged on. Ultimately, everything depended on the whims of Chairman Jung, his grandfather.
“I must’ve done something wrong again.”
Blaming himself for being trapped in the hutch, Jung Heeyeon slowly lifted his head, which had been resting weakly against the bars. He stared blankly at his toes for a moment before letting his forehead fall onto his knees, as if he didn’t even have the strength to hold his head up. He knew that resting his forehead on his knees would only make his balance more unstable, but right now, this was what he needed. He craved the warmth of a person— even if that warmth was only his own.
As he endured the biting wind and stinging solitude, the innocent omega tried to repent for his supposed wrongdoings. He couldn’t recall what he’d done wrong, but the punishment confirmed that it was his fault. If he hadn’t done anything wrong, he wouldn’t have been locked in the hutch in the first place.
If Jung Heeyeon was being punished, then Jung Heeyeon must have been the one at fault.
“…”
He wiggled his now-numb toes and thought back on the day leading up to his confinement.
He’d woken up at the usual time, eaten breakfast, studied, had lunch… Then, by chance, he had crossed paths with Chairman Jung. The old man had scrutinized him, as if assessing his worth, before clicking his tongue and striking him hard across the cheek. The ringing in his ears had made it impossible to fully understand the scolding that followed, but in hindsight, it seemed to be about his fathers.
One slap was all it took to knock him down, and from there, Lee Yootae had dragged him to the hutch and left him there.
“The chairman was upset… I must’ve done something wrong.”
Jung Heeyeon found solace in the idea that his punishment was justified. Once again, his mere existence must have irritated the chairman. That was the entirety of his wrongdoing.
He turned his face slightly to rest his cheek against his knee. It turned out to be his swollen cheek. The inflamed flesh ached under the pressure, but it was still bearable. Rather than shifting his position, he silently gazed out at the scenery before him.
Through the haze of cold-induced numbness, his blurred vision took in the breathtakingly vast garden spread out before him. The house he had lived in all his life was expansive, but the garden was even more so. Despite being confined within its walls until he was nineteen, he suspected that the beauty of the garden was what had kept him from going mad.
The elegant garden was a stark contrast to the crude, primitive hutch, but Jung Heeyeon never thought the juxtaposition strange. The hutch had been a fixture in one corner of the garden for as long as he could remember, ever since he started receiving punishments.
The ground beneath the garden was littered with autumn leaves, as if signaling the arrival of the season.
Thunk.
Jung Heeyeon stared blankly at the falling autumn leaves. A yellow gingko leaf fluttered down and landed on his bare foot. He wiggled his foot slightly, trying to shake it off. Though his movement was rather fidgety, the yellow leaf somehow managed to stay in place.
Eventually, he pulled his hand out of his sleeve and picked up the leaf. His movements were careful, almost reverent, but the delicate leaf crumbled at the slightest touch.
Startled, he instinctively flung his hand, causing his balance to falter. Jeong Heeyeon toppled forward onto the hutch floor. The rusty, metallic stench rushed up to his face.
“…!”
He shot upright in alarm, only to realize that the space around him had changed. Moments ago, he had been inside the open hutch with gaps in its floor, but now, he was in an enclosed area.
“Uh..l”
The sharp scent of rust still pricked his nostrils, now mixed with the briny tang of hardened salt.
It was the smell of the sea.
Jung Heeyeon ran his fingers along the wall. The cold, uneven surface pressed against his fingertips, its chill spreading through his hand. After a while of feeling his surroundings in the dark, he glanced down and noticed something different. Now, his bare feet had been covered with sneakers. White socks, too.
“Ah.”
He vaguely realized he was dreaming. He also recognized the space he was in now. It wasn’t the suspended hutch—it was a cargo container. Once again confined in the container, the omega refrained from banging on the walls and instead crouched in the corner. Like in the suspended hutch, he pulled his knees close to his chest.
Usually, he would simply wait for the punishment to end, pretending it didn’t bother him. But today, for some reason, he felt slightly afraid.
“Director Yeon… Yeon Woobeom.”
Jung Heeyeon murmured Director Yeon’s name softly, letting it roll off his tongue. Rather than struggling futilely to wake from the dream, calling the man’s name felt like a better option. Dreams weren’t something you could break free from just by sheer will. Thinking of Director Yeon Woobeom by uttering his name would bring him a small measure of comfort.
The wait was long, and as time dragged on, unease began to swell inside him, growing larger and heavier. While he was used to waiting, waiting for Director Yeon was an entirely different experience.
Screeeech-.
A sharp, jarring sound pierced the silence, and the door at the edge of his vision began to open. Pale moonlight spilled in, carrying the salty tang of the sea on the breeze. The sound of footsteps approached steadily. The sudden light was blinding, but Jung Heeyeon didn’t lower his gaze. Instead, he looked up immediately.
The sound of heavy shoes stepping boldly into the space followed, and an all-too-familiar figure emerged from the blur of his vision.
“Director.”
Jung Heeyeon called him. At the sound of his voice, the man tilted his head slightly and opened his mouth.
What if he doesn’t recognize me? The thought struck suddenly, causing Jung Heeyeon to grip his knees tightly and bite his lips hard.
“Yeah, Heeyeon.”
The man’s gentle voice responded, calling his name. Relieved, Jung Heeyeon released the tension in his lips and stood up. His toes tingled, though there was no cramp.
“Come here.”
A strong arm wrapped around his waist, pulling him into a firm embrace. Out of habit, Jung Heeyeon leaned into Director Yeon’s chest. Pressing his nose against the man’s coat, he inhaled the familiar scent—a faint trace of tobacco.
“Let’s go home.”
The words, “Let’s go home,” sounded so comforting. Before he knew it, they were standing in front of a familiar car. Instead of leaving him alone or closing the door, Director Yeon got into the car right away, and it didn’t take long for the vehicle to start moving. Glancing at the alpha’s face who had come to fetch him, Jung Heeyeon fidgeted with his fingers.
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